


The Binder

by lorspolairepeluche



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Nonbinary Inquisitor - Freeform, Other, bind healthily kids, binding, krem helps cohr out with their new binder and it turns smutty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-09-02 01:44:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8647012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lorspolairepeluche/pseuds/lorspolairepeluche
Summary: Cohr has a package from Clan Severan, and they ask for Krem's help putting it on for the first time. It gives them the opportunity to get more familiar with each other's bodies in more than one way.





	

The message came in the afternoon, while he was practicing drills with the Iron Bull. A runner brought it, a simple little thing on a folded piece of paper. The script on it was neat and concise—no doubt the result of years of writing notes and papers.

 

_Krem—_

_Come to my quarters after you eat dinner. I have something to show you._

_Cohr_

 

Bull grinned, and the Chargers called jeers as they noticed the “love note” Krem hastily tucked away, but he paid them no mind. He was used to it—and the words themselves kept him distracted.

Krem shoved himself to his feet after the seventh time Bull disarmed him, vowing to himself for the seventh time to not let his guard down, to find that Bull had already picked up Krem’s practice sword. Krem stuck out his hand, expression as surly as he could make it, but Bull just shook his head.

“Go eat,” his Chief said quietly.

“Chief?” Krem asked uncertainly, drawing his hand back only a little.

Bull’s grin was fierce in its teasing. “Don’t keep your Inquisitor waiting, loverboy.”

Krem slapped Bull’s chest—the Chief allowed the blow, blocking only halfheartedly while he laughed—and started off toward the Herald’s Rest, trying to make himself storm when all he wanted to do was run.

—

“Your Worship?” Krem called, knocking on the door to the Inquisitor’s quarters. “You sent for me?” He smiled at the unmistakable sound of someone jumping off the bed and running eagerly down the stairs, and then the door was thrown open.

Cohr’s eyes were as bright as ever, maybe brighter, as they thrust a hastily rewrapped parcel out at Krem. “It’s done.”

“That clan of yours came through, then?” Krem couldn’t help grinning at Cohr’s excitement.

“They’re not technically _mine,_ since I’m not an elf, but…yes. They always do.” Cohr hugged the package to their chest, inhaling its scent deeply. “I like to think that the smell of Rivain clings to the leather.” They looked up, their eyes softening. “I called you ‘cause I thought it would be best to have some help the first time.”

“You thought right,” Krem said. “I got stuck in mine the first time.”

Cohr threw their arms around Krem’s neck. “You’re the _best,_ ” they declared before planting a kiss on his lips. It lasted only a moment before they drew back again. “C’mon. I’ve been waiting for this all afternoon!” They grabbed Krem’s hand and pulled him back up the stairs after them.

The Inquisitor’s quarters were magnificent. A four-poster bed with a canopy, a polished wooden desk—even a fireplace right there in the room. Krem gazed around, taking in the sunset streaming in through the tall windows, the desk with reports piled high and ignored in favor of the package from the Dalish clan.

“Here it is!”

Krem looked back at Cohr to find them displaying the long-awaited present. It looked like the upper half of a leather shirt, lined with soft fabric, but Krem noted the buckles on the side to tighten it. Cohr’s new binder looked good.

“Can I…?” Krem gestured to the binder, and Cohr nodded eagerly. Krem rubbed the material between his fingers, marveling, “That’s the softest leather I’ve ever seen.”

“Clan Severan’s crafters are the best,” Cohr agreed. “And Felran said he spelled it himself to be more comfortable and to work better.” They hugged the leather to them again with an irrepressible smile.

“If you keep hugging it, you won’t be able to put it on,” Krem laughed, prying Cohr’s arms away and taking the binder. “Come on, let’s try it.”

“Yes!” Their shirt was off in a second, and they were reaching for their breastband before they realized Krem had never seen them undressed before.

Their hands froze, and Krem’s face suffused with red in the same instant. “I can…I can turn around?” he offered awkwardly.

Cohr opened their mouth to say _please do,_ but they took a deep breath, and something else came out. “No. If we’re going to—to do this—this being together thing…we should get used to each other’s bodies, right?” Carefully, they undid the clasp on their breastband and let it fall away. “Alright.” The smile returned as they looked back to the binder in Krem’s hands. “Let’s try it.”

Krem grinned too, the infectious excitement washing through him. “Let’s.”

“I think it goes on over my head,” Cohr said, raising their arms to allow Krem to slide the binder onto them. “I couldn’t see any clasps.”

“Good,” Krem answered, wriggling the binder down Cohr’s arms and over their head. “Clasps aren’t good on a binder; they constrict too much. Don’t allow for much movement or stretching…or…ah, can’t think of the word.”

“Flexion?” Cohr asked as their head reappeared out the collar of the binder.

“That sounds right.” Krem tugged it a little more, covering Cohr’s breasts completely before moving to tighten the sides. “Did your friend spell this for flexion too?”

“Yes; the leather itself and the straps on the side stretch a little more than regular leather.” Cohr twisted a little, testing their movement, until Krem stilled them with his hands on their shoulders.

“Hold on,” he laughed. “Not done yet. Tell me when it’s tight enough.” He knelt beside them, and Cohr obediently raised their arm to allow Krem to tighten the bottom strap. They stayed perfectly still, save for their teeth worrying their bottom lip. “You’re right; it does stretch a little more,” Krem remarked. “Tight enough?”

“I…I think so?” Cohr glanced down, trying to see their side. “How do I know?”

“Does it look flat enough?”

“I…guess?”

“Can you still breathe?”

“Yeah.”

“Then it’s tight enough.” After a reassuring touch on Cohr’s back, Krem moved up to the next strap. “Don’t worry, Cohr,” he murmured. “You look wonderful.”

He had to concentrate hard on the other two straps to keep his face from reddening again. That one fleeting touch had given him an excellent idea of just how hard and powerful Cohr’s muscles were, even with just that little bit more fat than the first time they’d stopped to talk to him in Haven. He took his hands away as soon as the last buckle was cinched. “How does that feel?”

“More like how does it _look,_ ” Cohr breathed, looking down at their newly flat chest, feeling at it. Krem had to fall to the side to avoid Cohr’s dash for their full-length mirror. He watched, propped on his elbows, as they turned this way and that, hands touching the binder. Questions tumbled from them in the way Krem so adored. “Is it flat enough? Should it be tighter? Is this how it’s supposed to look? Am I wearing it right?”

Krem’s laugh had Cohr turning, mouth open to insist that it wasn’t funny, just in time to see Krem pull off his shirt to reveal his own binder. “It’s fine, Cohr,” he promised as he held out a hand. “Come on; you can feel mine if you don’t believe me.”

Cohr took his hand, stepping in toward him and paying no mind to the way his arms looped almost automatically around their waist. Their hands were occupied with feeling Krem’s chest, then their own, then Krem’s again, fascinated by the similarity.

Krem hadn’t decided whether it was just affection that was welling up in him or something else before he murmured, “See? It’s fine. You look perfect.”

Cohr looked up at his face—finally, finally—and, after a moment, started to laugh.

“What?” Krem asked, a chuckle escaping him too. “Is there something on my face?”

“No, no, it’s just—you looked so _smitten,_ ” Cohr managed. When Krem looked affronted, they added, “And—and I thought about what Bull said—about you and me looking like a couple of lovestruck children—when we look at each other—and he’s right! He’s right!”

By then, Krem was laughing too, hugging Cohr tight and letting his laugh boom around the echo-filled room, happiness swelling underneath his binder, finally unafraid and not alone.

The laughter died slowly until they just stood in each other’s arms, foreheads pressed together, breathing in unison, and Krem leaned in, letting his lips open just a bit…

“I should know how to take it off, too.”

Krem drew back. “What?”

“I should know how to take the binder off.” Cohr backed up a step, just barely out of Krem’s arms. They fidgeted a moment, bare feet shuffling, before looking back up at him. “Can I practice on you?”

Krem had to blink twice before the question registered. “I—alright. Go ahead.” He lifted his arm, revealing the leather ties on one side of his binder. “Let me know if you have trouble with the knots.”

He needn’t have worried, he found out, as Cohr’s fingers picked expertly at the ties, undoing them in a matter of seconds each. “Off over the head?” they asked as the leather loosened around Krem’s chest.

He hesitated for a moment, his arm lowering to hover almost protectively in front of his chest, before he remembered Cohr’s words: _we should get used to each other’s bodies._ Cohr had been brave enough, had trusted him enough, to bare their chest, and Krem took a deep breath. “Yes. Over my head.”

He raised his arms again, and the leather dragged over them, letting the cool air touch his chest. He shivered for a moment before the warmth of the fire reached him once again and the binder slipped over his head, leaving him in only his trousers.

His hands went automatically to his chest again, covering it self-consciously, but after a moment, he made himself drop his hands to his sides.

“Shit.”

Krem hadn’t even noticed Cohr’s hands working at the buckles of their own binder until they swore and gave him a guilty smile. “It’s a weird angle…a little help? Please?”

A swell of gratefulness and sheer affection rose in Krem’s chest as he moved to undo the buckles he’d done up mere minutes ago. He wasn’t alone, and he silently thanked Cohr. “Off over the head?” he echoed, and Cohr laughed.

“You’ve forgotten already?” Their words were slightly muffled as Krem slipped their binder off, briefly obscuring their face, mussing their sun-bleached hair as it dragged over their head. Cohr’s binder landed on top of Krem’s on the floor, and their hand hesitated out toward Krem.

Krem got there first, hands running up the back muscles that, he was quickly finding out, he loved to touch. Cohr’s hands were on him, too, one running up the short hair at the back of his head to grasp the longer hair at his crown, the other kneading the muscle of the back of his shoulder. He seized his chance, and their lips met a little messily, a little hastily, and absolutely perfectly.

Cohr made a soft noise when Krem’s hands dipped down to the waistband of their trousers, and he pulled back an inch. “Cohr?”

The hand in his hair tugged him back in, and their other hand helped him tug Cohr’s pants down to drop on the floor. They stepped out of the trousers, closer to Krem, even as they let up on the pressure in his hair to whisper, “Is this…are you okay?”

“Yes. _Maker,_ yes.” Krem’s voice was husky as Cohr’s hands moved down to feel at the waist of his pants. “Yes,” he said again, even as Cohr opened their mouth to ask. He took advantage of their open lips to press a kiss to their mouth as he helped them unlace his pants and tug them down. His eager hands kept going, hooking into his smallclothes and tugging them off, and he didn’t even need to break the kiss to ask permission to do the same for Cohr; their hands fumbled together in Cohr’s smalls, drawing the sweetest of sounds from Cohr’s throat.

Cohr was the first to move for the bed, but it was Krem who pushed them down on it, who crawled up as they scrambled backward with a giggle, who even gave a playful growl as Cohr settled themself back on the pillows. Cohr nearly threw their arms around Krem’s neck, pulling him in and kissing him again as he caught himself on his arms above them. “You’re eager,” he murmured.

“I haven’t slept with anyone since Haven,” Cohr admitted. “Haven’t had the time…and, well…haven’t wanted to sleep with anyone. Except with you.”

“You don’t need to work so hard to charm me,” Krem assured them, starting to move back down their body. “You already have.”

A very soft noise came from Cohr when Krem kissed under their jaw, and more followed as Krem’s lips traced down their body, a litany of tiny encouragements as his hands brushed their sides. His palms came to rest at their hips as his head followed and he glanced up for a flash of blue eyes, a nod of permission.

He got both, and Cohr’s breath hitched as Krem’s hands slowly, slowly parted their legs, pressing kisses to the insides of their powerful thighs, closer, closer—

A low whine came from above. “I don’t need—the teasing,” Cohr gasped, hand threading through Krem’s hair again. He obeyed the tugs easily, moving back up with a smile, and Cohr decided they didn’t need a kiss so badly after all when Krem caught a nipple in his mouth. Cohr’s hand loosened in Krem’s hair as he swept his tongue across pebbled flesh and one hand snuck downward.

Cohr gave a soft “oh” as Krem’s fingers slipped past dark, wet curls and traced along the inside of wetter folds. The hand not using Krem’s hair as a handhold to push his head against their chest slid down his side, coming to rest on his ass as their hips bucked up, trapping his hand between the two of them and grinding Cohr’s hips into his with a louder moan than before.

Still, that noise and Cohr’s breath cut off when Krem nudged two fingers inside them. He took the chance to claim their mouth again, capturing the long, pleased sound that came from Cohr as they relaxed and wiggled their hips, encouraging Krem’s fingers deeper. Krem broke the kiss to ask, “This all right?” and, when he got a nod, add, only a little teasingly, “Want some more?”

“Mm, please,” Cohr murmured, rolling their hips up again and giving a pleased gasp when Krem’s fingers wriggled inside them. “Yeah, that—mhm—that’s good, but,” they whispered, one of their hands going unconsciously up to grasp at their headboard. “Krem…”

“Yes?” he breathed onto their lips.

“Here, I can…” The hand on Krem’s ass moved to Cohr’s clit. Their finger only gave the lightest of rubs there before Cohr’s hips jumped again and a hitching cry came from them in three parts, ending on a sigh as the finger settled into a soft, stroking rhythm.

Krem watched for a moment before gently pushing the hand away and replacing it with his own thumb. He didn’t have to move it much; his fingers moving inside them—he added a third and was rewarded with Cohr’s teeth closing gently on his lip and a sound from their throat—were enough to push his thumb back and forth as well, and that was enough to elicit a whimper from Cohr, their hand suddenly on Krem’s, pushing his fingers deeper with a low moan of his name.

“Cohr,” he breathed back onto their jaw.

Cohr’s eyes opened, fixing him in mischievous blue. “Just don’t stop.”

And he didn’t, not when he used his other thumb to flick their nipple and his mouth to kiss and suck a mark into the crook of their neck and shoulder, not when he noticed the heat dripping between his own legs at every “oh” and “ah” and whimper of “Krem” pouring from Cohr’s lips, not as his fingers worked them up, up, up, and their back arched toward the bed’s canopy. He didn’t stop even when Cohr came undone with a silent shout and a sudden release of their taut abdomen, like the snap of a bowstring against Krem’s arm. He caught every cry of Cohr’s climax, every cry of his own name, with his own lips, and he felt every gush of warmth with his fingers still inside them, still with his thumb rubbing their clit to urge them higher—until one noise louder than the rest and a hand suddenly squeezing his bicep stilled his hand and had him drawing back. “Cohr?”

It took them a moment to regain their breath, but they opened their eyes again to reassure him, along with the grip on his arm fading to a soft touch. “Krem,” they finally breathed, the hand on his arm moving to cradle the back of his neck.

“Yes?” he whispered, finally drawing his hand away from their wetness and using the other to cup Cohr’s cheek.

Cohr’s eyes slipped shut for a moment. It was broken by a smile splitting their face and sudden, sparkling blue as their eyelids flicked up once again.

“Your turn.”

—

The three advisors noticed different things as the Inquisitor sailed into the war room the next morning.

Cullen noted, only a little irritably, “You’re late,” and more awkwardly, “Your, ah—your chest is…”

“Flatter!” Cohr finished cheerfully for him. “Good morning!”

Josephine noticed the humming. “Is that…the Bull’s Chargers’ song?”

Cohr at least had the grace to blush. “Yes.”

Leliana, for her part, did not mention that she had noticed a distinct smell of a different person about Cohr as their advisors briefed them on the news of the day from reports all across Thedas. She didn’t have to mention who met Cohr at the door of Josephine’s office at the end of the meeting, though.

“That was the Iron Bull’s lieutenant, wasn’t it?” Cullen asked. “The Inquisitor and…”

“How sweet,” Josephine said, exchanging knowing smiles with Leliana as Cohr stopped, still in the main hall, to turn Krem’s face and kiss him.

Blue eyes had a cheeky sparkle as Cohr turned back to wave at their advisors before tugging Krem toward the Herald’s Rest.

**Author's Note:**

> HELLO AO3 I GREET THEE WITH MY ONLY ACTUALLY SMUTTY WORK FOR THIS FANDOM


End file.
